Chapter 375: The Explanation
Fraser watched Summer’s unresponsive expression, fear creeping into his chest. Had she heard his explanation or not? His usually eloquent tongue felt clumsy as he stumbled over his words. “It’s true, I swear. There’s absolutely nothing between me and Mia.”
The name sat like a lead weight in Summer’s stomach. She had appeared on that phone call that one night. She had been seen on Ravenshire Boulevard. She had even grown up with Fraser during her childhood.
Logically, I understood that these were just fragments of Fraser’s past. Everyone had a past. And Fraser loved me now—that much was certain. But emotions weren’t controlled by logic. The ugly jealousy that twisted inside me made me hate myself. Those dirty, irrational feelings stuck in my throat, impossible to articulate.
Fraser gently lifted her chin with two fingers, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. His voice dropped to the deep, serious tone he only used with her. “Do you remember what I told you about my mother’s abduction when I was young? Mia’s father was one of our family drivers. He died protecting my mother during the incident.”
His thumb stroked her cheekbone absently. “Out of guilt and obligation, Madam Graham took Mia in. To me, she was just another face in the Graham family. I never paid her any special attention.”
A weighted pause. Then, softer, “The only childhood companion I ever acknowledged… is you.”
Summer searched his dark eyes—those bottomless pools of black that held nothing but raw honesty. Her lashes fluttered slightly. I didn’t doubt his words. A man like Fraser Graham had no reason to lie about such a thing. But women’s hearts were complicated places. Cold facts alone couldn’t soothe the pain. I needed to feel his devotion, his unwavering focus. I needed him to prove it in ways words couldn’t convey.
“Um,” she finally murmured noncommittally.
That unraveled her last thread of restraint. “In the photo,” the words tumbled out before she could stop them, “her hand was on yours. She looked at you like…”
Fraser immediately caught her restless fingers in his larger palm. “Camera angles and deliberate framing. Yes, I’d been drinking that night, but I was sober enough to leave the second I realized she’d gotten too close.”
When Summer remained silent, Fraser’s grip tightened almost painfully. “I swear on everything! You’re the only woman I’ve ever cared about.”
Summer finally looked up and met his desperate gaze. “I believe you.”
His chiseled mouth flattened into a thin line. “You say that, but your eyes tell a different story.”
It felt as if she was just humoring me. Fraser rubbed his temples, a rare sign of frustration. Who could have predicted that one damn photograph would cause such havoc? Women’s hearts were mazes I couldn’t navigate. I’d laid it all out and explained it with perfect clarity. She claimed to believe me. Yet somehow it felt like she only partially trusted me. Fifty percent trust? Micro… trust?
“I’m hungry,” Summer announced suddenly, effectively changing the subject.
“I’ll cook,” she said. As Fraser stood, Summer added quietly, “The fridge here is empty.”
Ravenshire Boulevard hadn’t been occupied for months. The electricity had been off until today, when she arrived. Though a cleaning service maintained the apartment weekly, there was no fresh food.
Fraser’s sharp gaze swept over the modest apartment, so different from her usual lavish surroundings. I owned countless properties throughout the city—sprawling penthouses, private villas, even entire five-star hotels. But if Summer wanted to stay in this simple apartment tonight, I wouldn’t say anything. Wherever she was, this was home.
He pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to Mike before rolling up his sleeves with quiet determination. The kettle had just begun its soothing hum when the doorbell rang fifteen minutes later.
Fraser opened the door to find Mike carrying several bags of groceries, his arms straining under the weight. The assistant’s eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight before him.
Mike blinked quickly. Was this the same ruthless business titan who had dominated the shareholders’ meeting just hours before? The same man who had coldly dismantled the opposition without breaking a sweat? The cognitive dissonance was almost too much to process.
“Mr. Graham,” Mike managed, lifting the bags, “all the food you requested is here.”
Fraser took the bags with a grunt, already mentally cataloging the ingredients for Summer’s favorite dishes. Mike’s eyes inadvertently wandered past his boss and landed on Summer, curled up on the sofa, a book open in her lap. The pieces clicked into place.
Ah. That explained the remarkable transformation. Before Mike could process this revelation, Fraser’s icy stare snapped him back to reality. The unspoken message was clear: your presence is no longer required.
The door slammed shut with finality. Mike stood frozen on the doorstep, staring at the closed door. Slowly, he reached up and adjusted his tie, exhaling sharply. Some things, he decided, were better left unsaid.